


A Moment of Respite

by Fang (fang_writes)



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Comfort, Frotting, Gibson's Real Name Is Philippe Hugo Guillet, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Smut, Third Person Limited, alex is there but he sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 12:22:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17662565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fang_writes/pseuds/Fang
Summary: On a cold, lonely night on the beaches of Dunkirk, Tommy gets a bit of relief.Alternate title:Sex on the Beach





	A Moment of Respite

**Author's Note:**

> wooow this is the first time I have EVER published a fic, and it's for this fandom of all fandoms? couldn't be helped. the first time I watched dunkirk, I never even considered this ship. the next time I saw it (it's all bandersnatch's fault btw), this became my OTP as I realized how much of a tragic, angsty love story it really is. I was happy to come to ao3 after my rewatch and see a pretty decent amount of fic, but there's definitely not enough. I read through everything in the tag twice before I started writing my own fic.
> 
> anyway, cheers. I have more planned if I ever get motivated. unbeta'd, so sorry for any mistakes.
> 
>  **edit** : title has been slightly changed and rating has been bumped up bc I realized that if you outright mention dicks, it's probably explicit.

Tommy lay on the beach, shivering. It’s the middle of the night, and the sky is an inky black with only the moon and stars for light. There are fires from the other soldiers closer to the mole, but he can only barely see pinpricks far off in the distance. It’s been half a day at least since he and Alex washed up on the shores of their harrowing escape from the torpedoed destroyer. He should be utterly exhausted and _he is_ , yet he hasn’t been able to muster the sleep. It was a little humid but the wind chill had him shivering in his still slightly damp clothes.

Lying about a foot across from him was the nameless, silent soldier, his back facing Tommy.  The quiet man had saved him and Alex both from the icy depths of the Channel. Not once, but twice. He was sure that man was also the one who opened the destroyer’s port-side door for them, and they might’ve been stranded if he hadn’t thought of getting them a rope to hang onto while the lifeboat dragged them back to shore. Further from them was Alex, snoring over the gentle waves. A sharp gust of wind had his teeth chattering loudly and him pulling further into the fetal position. This must’ve alerted the soldier as he shifted around to face Tommy.

Tommy flushed and shook his head, whispering, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

In the sparse moonlight, Tommy could see his eyes and the way his brow furrowed. To his surprise, the man was inching closer. He extended an arm and almost hesitantly put it over Tommy’s side. It took a moment for Tommy to understand. _He’s trying to keep me warm_. Tommy nodded and took his arms out the heavy coat. He had read that sharing body heat was easier when it was bare skin against bare skin. His silent companion did the same, arms now fulling wrapping around Tommy, their coats encompassing them both. Tommy’s head almost naturally fell into the crook of the man’s arm. They were now only inches apart. Tommy could feel the gentle puffs of air on the crown of his head.

Tommy looked up and swallowed, suddenly feeling a pit of anxiety in his stomach. He had never been so close to a man before that wasn’t a relative. He could finally see the stranger’s face--if he could even call him that at this point--up close. The light was dim but the color of his eyes still caught him off guard. _Were they always that green? Blue? Brown? Grey?_ Tommy couldn’t decide. Despite looking into that face before as their only real method of communication up to this point, he had never taken the time to observe his features. The large eyes, sunken in more than normal out of stress, the square face and chiseled jaw, the full lips...

Blushing, Tommy looked back down, tried his best to suppress thoughts of that nature which he spent so long trying to squash down into nothing. He had often heard that survival situations brought people together, but that should only applied to men and women. The man seemed not to notice, as he was looking far off into the distance, almost in a daze. Another spell of freezing wind and they reflexively pressed together as close as possible.

This time, the nameless soldier, his actual savior was staring back at him with a sort of conflicted look on his face. Tommy was trying so hard not to let his attraction be made known. The warmth from their embrace almost canceled the outside cold. His face burned red hot, and he was sure he had to break away before it gets obvious. A soft hand on his cheek stops him just before he makes the decision. Heart thudding, Tommy allows the other man to initiate, the shock leading him to freeze up as cold lips press up against his. He pulls away too soon, now looking like he wanted to bolt, like he made the wrong decision and Tommy would reject him and ostracize him. Tommy jolts into action, using his hand to press him back into a kiss.

Again and again, they kiss. Chaste at first but soon open mouthed. Tommy allows his friend to set the pace. He has to with his own inexperience. He’s so good and leaves Tommy feeling dazed after each kiss. His hand was on his cheek but they slide back down to his bare arm, leaving goosebumps. The other hand supports his head, thumb rubbing tiny circles into his hair. After they run out of breath, he’s pressing kisses to Tommy’s neck, nibbling at his collar bone.

By now, Tommy is hard and moaning softly with pleasure, feeling uncomfortable in his trousers. He thinks he ought to feel shameful, but it feels too good for him to care. His lover was hard too and he could feel him pressing against his thigh. The man moved back just slightly to work on the button of his own trousers before doing Tommy’s with such fervor he was afraid it might come off. They were both shoved down just enough to release them both from their confines.

The man first took Tommy in his hand and looked at him coyly, like he knew that this was a new experience for him. Kissed him again while stroking him so gently it was getting frustrating. Soon precome was leaking from Tommy’s cock which his lover used to make his grip slicker. Before he could bring Tommy any closer to his peak, he was fisting his own cock alongside Tommy’s. Tommy may not know what he was doing but thrusting into his grip was natural. He was getting so close, his fingers digging into the other man’s arm.

The noise of someone shifting made them both freeze. He had completely forgotten Alex was less than a dozen feet over, seemingly oblivious. Thankfully the gentle waves of earlier had become much louder, crashing upon each other and masking the noises either of them made. After waiting an agonizing minute for any hint that Alex was awake, he moved, bringing his companion back into action and they set off again, building up their rhythm.

Tommy was a fan of the one way the other man swiped the pad of his thumb across his slit. Panted and moaned as he leaned in to kiss at his chin, then bites at his pulse--gently in order to leave no marks. The other man is much more controlled in his reactions, relatively silent even in pleasure but even Tommy could tell he was close. Tommy came first, of course, but that spurred on his lover too until they were both done.

Wiping his hands as clean as he could on the damp sand below him, the soldier opposite him took care of Tommy, tucking them both back in their clothes and setting them in order. The orgasm took all the cold and anxiety out of Tommy, including whatever nervous energy he might have had before.

The man took his face in his hands and gazed at him for a few seconds, a look of guilt on his face, before hesitantly whispering two words:

_“Philippe Guillet.”_

For a few moments Tommy was puzzled until realization dawned upon his face. It was a name. _His real name._  Still breathing a little hard, Tommy reached into the man’s shirt and pulled out his dog tags. Rather, his stolen dog tags. Squinting until his eyes readjusted, Tommy noted it said _E. Gibson_.

Tommy knew now. This man, Philippe, was lying the entire time about being English.

He very quickly decided he didn’t care. The dog tags were placed back. Tommy nods and smiles, places his hand on Philippe’s. _I’ll keep your secret_.  _I promise._


End file.
